


What is a life loved, if it is a life never lived

by needmesomepie



Category: How to Get Away with Murder
Genre: Canon storyline, Connor Walsh - Freeform, How to Get Away With Murder - Freeform, M/M, Oh and it's a future fic, Oliver Hampton - Freeform, and i'm the one that bloody wrote it, but then again aren't all of my fics a little sad, coliver - Freeform, don't hate me please, fluffy and angsty all at the same time, ha ha a ha ah h ah ha, i will however dig a hole and bury myself next to you, just btw, spoilers for up to 3x01, that come as a direct result of this fic, they love eachother really, this is a disclaimer that i will not pay for any funeral costs, this is a nice happy fic, this is actually really sad, this physically pains me, with my personal twist, ya know the one that is breaking all of our hearts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-09
Updated: 2016-10-09
Packaged: 2018-08-20 10:04:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,070
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8245222
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/needmesomepie/pseuds/needmesomepie
Summary: Connor loved Oliver. Oliver loved Connor. Their relationship was as simple as that, and yet, it just wasn't. 
Connor loved Oliver too much to see through the smiles, the laughs and the sex that love just wasn't enough. That their relationship was toxic and the lies were pushing them further apart. Oliver loved Connor too much to continue their relationship. Too much to put Connor through the pain he didn't know he was feeling. 
Connor loved Oliver, Oliver loved Connor. Both with everything in their hearts, and yet, sometimes, love just wasn't enough.
In other words, this is a story showing the never ending love between Connor and Oliver, and the ultimate heartbreak of a life they both wanted, but never got.





	

He drove to the cross roads, talking away. The lights turned red. He stopped. Amidst conversation he looked across the road, at the faces of mindless people, at the bird perched in a tree and finally into a car he knew only too well. The car of a man who had once loved him, maybe even still did. He knew he did, still love him that was. They caught eachothers eyes, the moment of realisation caught on the others face. It may have been 20 years, but he hadn't changed much. Neither of them had. The voice of his passenger faded out, leaving only the face of a once happy future in the midst of Connor's mind.

He sat, looking into that car for longer than was probably appropriate. He didn't hear the voice next to him telling him of their day, how it had been stressful and that a crap movie and take out was just what the doctor had ordered. He didn't hear them stop and ask him how his day was, if work was okay. He didn't hear the radio fade out as it lost signal, or the tweeting of the birds, sitting high in the trees. Connor didn't hear any of that. Instead, voices and memories flowed through his mind of a time when he was happy. A time when waking up and going to work didn't seem so bad, because what he was coming home to made all of his troubles fade away. It wasn't that he wasn't happy now, it's just that back then things were simpler, better, _nicer_.

He remembered back to a time when he'd had a terrible day at school. Annalise had him working to the bone, he'd got 4 different papers to write and to top it all off, the bunch of homphobic arseholes from the year above, had half heartedly thrown comments at him again across the car park. He'd had enough and he just wanted to go home, convinced nothing could possibly make this day better. And then Oliver texted him. It was only a simple message asking how his day was, but it made Connor smile. It made him forget the enormous amount of stress he was under and reply to Oliver, saying he'd tell him about it, over dinner. He smiled. Connor ' _nothing can make me happy_ 'Walsh smiled, because of Oliver Hampton.

Dinner hadn't been much, just take out from the local Chinese, but to Connor that hadn't mattered. To Connor, eating out of the bins could have been a 5 star gormet meal as long as Oliver was by his side. Connor spoke, and Oliver listened. Listened to every hardship, every pain and sorrow that Connor was feeling. He was silent when he needed to be, commenting when he could and offering advice where he thought appropriate. When Connor had finished, Oliver had picked up their plates, put them in the kitchen, returned to Connor and sat on the sofa next to him. His arms had snaked around the younger man's waist, his lips placing comforting kisses around his face. It was gentle. It was sweet. It was everything Connor had needed, and yet it was so much more. Anything that had been bothering Connor was forgotten, only the strong, comforting arms of the man next to him on his mind.

The memory made him smile, small and invisible to certain people across the road, but he smiled all the same. A smile not disimilar to that of one when Connor made the decision to move in with Oliver. He remembered the night he made the decision, two days after Oliver revealed he had HIV. He'd said to Connor nine words that he'd never forget, never change his answer too. 'You don't even know if you still want this'. It was a heat of the moment statement, one about their relationship and one Connor had known Ollie never really meant. But he'd still said it, and Connor still had to answer. Words were said, conversations were had and one decision was made, that Connor had kept quietly to himself. The decision that had caused the smile. The smile he was smiling now, as he remembered this story. The smile that belonged wholey, and souley to Oliver. He'd revealed his plans to Ollie the next day, whilst standing outside his apartment with a box full of things. His things. From his _old_ apartment. He was moving in with Ollie, because that's what he'd wanted, _still_ wanted. Just to spend his forever with Ollie. He thought that was what Ollie had wanted too, to spend the rest of their lives together, but evidently he was wrong.

He still remembers the day they broke up, as vividly as if it was happening right now. He remembers the feelings of sorrow, betrayal and regret clouding his mind as he walked to their front door. He remembers walking in and seeing Oliver sitting on the arm of the couch, apologies waiting to spill from his lips. And he remembers forgiving Oliver, understanding why he did what he did, no matter how much it hurt. He remembers the shock on Oliver's face, and word after word spilling out of his mouth, none really making any sense to Connor. He remembers the moment he finally realised what was happening, trying to deny it to himself and asking if Oliver wanted to take a break. He remembers the five words that followed the silence, the one's that stole three months of smiles from Connor, and ended any chance of a happy future for him. For Oliver as well, not that he'd ever admit it.

Connor sat in his car, replaying the words of that night over and over in his head, not noticing the tears that had begun to fall. He didn't hear his passanger ask him what was wrong and if he was okay, nor did he hear the radio slowly fade back in. He just stared, into a car that once held so much meaning, and at a guy that once held Connor's future in his hands. And Oliver looked back, mourning the life he could have had, if only he'd been brave enough.

Since Connor, Oliver hadn't dated. He'd had one night stands with people he'd met at bars, on nights he'd got so drunk he'd forgotten that Connor existed, forgotten his own name even, but he'd never dated. Could never bring himself to settle down with someone when he knowingly, after all this time, was still completely and utterly in love with Connor. He'd continued working for Annalise 2 years after Connor's graduation, until the many ghosts of his past caught up to him. He couldn't walk round the halls, into the classroom or Annalise's house without seeing little pieces of Connor everywhere. He was there in the little scrape on the wall that was made after he dropped his folders, bent down to pick them up, forgetting his keys were in his hand and scraped them along the wall. He was there in the little doodles on his desk, from the many bored hours he spent in that seat. He was there in the chip in the mug he always used at Annalise's, caused by him and Connor when they had a small make out session in the kitchen, causing Connor to drop the mug a small way. He was there in the files of cases he'd worked on, cases he'd won. He was there in the face of Annalise, of Frank, of Bonnie. He was there in the chair he always sat in, and the pen he always used. He was everywhere in apartment 303, in the bed, the walls, the paintings, the music, even the bloody glass that sat at the back of the cupboard, unused. He was everywhere and it screamed of a past he had and a future he wanted, and Oliver couldn't cope. He couldn't cope with seeing the face of his whole world staring back at him at work, at home. So he left, moved out of 303, quit his job with Annalise and moved two states over. His apartment wasn't anything special, no where near as nice as the one he'd shared with Connor, but it was all he could afford on what he had left from his job with Annalise. He'd found a job with a local IT company, fixing computers for people. It wasn't hacking, but it was better than nothing. It was a job and it provided money. But Oliver wasn't happy. He knew it was his fault, that he let his happiness go when there was every chance he could have got it back. But he didn't and he regretted it, but there was nothing he could do now. He didn't want to ruin Connor's brilliant life by bringing himself back into it.

Connor had become a successful lawyer, rivalling the best and winning nearly all of his cases, even some against Annalise. Oliver had seen him on tv sometimes, during some of his higher profile cases. They all wanted Connor, everyone knew he was the best. Everytime he won, Oliver would go to the fridge, grab a bottle of Champagne and two glasses. Then he'd stop, remembering that this wasn't his life anymore. He didn't get to celebrate Connor's wins with him, or cheer him up after a loss. He didn't get to wake up buried in a mop of dark hair, or go to sleep cuddled in strong arms. That wasn't his life anymore and it was his fault. He ended it all those years ago, for good reason, but he never went back. He sorted himself out, knew where he was and was ready for Connor, ready for their relationship to be part of his life again. But he was scared. Kept saying day after day "i"ll do it soon, before it's too late". But then it was. Turns out the wedding of one of your countries top lawyers makes the news these days. He knew he shouldn't be angry, that he should be happy for Connor. That it was his fault they weren't together and that Connor should be happy. Connor  _deserved_ to be happy, that's what he kept telling himself. But as selfish as it sounded, he didn't want Connor to be happy with anyone else but him. _It's your fault_ the voice reminded him, and he knew it was right.

They both sat in their respective cars, an emptiness crowding them. Thoughts of what could have been, _would_ have been, running through their mind. And they took one final glance at the other, wishing they were sitting together. Connor wishing it was Ollie sitting next to him talking about his day, not his husband. Ollie wishing that he'd come back sooner, that he hadn't waited all these years to find Connor and tell him he still loved him, more than anything. They both sat there, silently wishing for a life they could have had. But they do nothing, say nothing. The lights turn green, they move.

Neither turned back. Both kept their eyes forward. Tears streaming down their faces, causing a slight chill as the air caught the tracks on their cheeks. Both thinking the other hated them, didn't love them anymore. That their life was so much more without them in. That what they wanted, more than anything, was to be cuddled in the others arms once again, to celebrate their acheivements and make their losses better, _together_ , to be _loved_ by the other. But they drove, now only the memories of a life that could have been, the life that _should_ have been clouding their mind. Yet it was a life never lived, and now, as they drove away, furthering the distance between them not only literally but mentally, it became a life forever lost.

Maybe if they'd stopped, smiled or waved, anything to catch the others attention. Maybe if the sun had caught their faces in the right place, showing the other the tears that stained their face too. Maybe if Connor wasn't married, maybe if Ollie had returned sooner. Maybe if they had been brave enough to admit that they both needed eachother, more than either cared to realise, then they could be living the life they not only wanted, but _needed_.

But they'd said nothing, done nothing. The lights had turned green, they'd gone.

**Author's Note:**

> Ha..  
> Haha....  
> Hhahahahahaahahaahaahahahaha
> 
>  
> 
>  
> 
> I hate myself


End file.
